


crowning glory

by GoatVibesOnly



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Bathing/Washing, F/F, Female Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Female Merlin (Merlin), Hair Braiding, I just watched Merlin for the first time in this the year 2021, It's all super PG though, Lesbian AU, Lesbian Character, Only Merlin and Arthur are women tho everyone else is still the same gender as canon, Takes place in season 1 where they maybe still hate each other a little, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29042805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoatVibesOnly/pseuds/GoatVibesOnly
Summary: Arturia made a face. “Hairstylesmake me look like a princess.”“You are a princess.”“Don’t be ridiculous.” Arturia frowned. “I’m also a knight. I can’t go around looking like a princess when I'm training with the knights. I’d never hear the end of it.”Due to a series of mishaps, Merlin finds herself maidservant to the princess of Camelot herself, Princess Arturia. Now it's her job to manage the unruly princess-turned-knight and keep her presentable. Thankfully, Merlin has a few tricks up her sleeve (and most of them don't even include magic!).
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66





	crowning glory

> Lesbian Merthur aesthetic made by [houndpine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/houndpine)

When Merlin had first come to Camelot, becoming the maidservant to Princess Arturia had been the last thing she had expected. But when you save the princess’s life, the king starts to get ideas, and you don’t disobey the king. Even when the king tells you you’re going along on a hunt with him, Arturia, and the rest of the knights, for who knows what reason, and you’ve barely ridden a horse a day in your life.

But hey. At least Arturia no longer glared daggers at Merlin like she was scheming the fastest way to get rid of her.

Small victories.

The clattering of their horses’ hooves against the cobblestone floor announced their arrival as everyone – knights, huntsmen, their dogs, King Uther, and of course Princess Arturia – flooded the castle courtyard. Arturia, dressed in a flowy shirt (new for the occasion, though you’d never be able to tell from looking at it now) and her favorite riding pants (pants! for a woman!) swung out of her saddle and onto the floor. Her golden hair flew around her shoulders and down her back, blowing in the gentle breeze as she gave her horse a pat before handing it off to one of the grooms to take back to the stables.

As she caught Merlin’s expression (sour, scowling), she laughed. “That was a refreshing ride, wouldn’t you say?” Putting her hand on her hips, she surveyed the rest of the party, who were laughing gaily as they dismounted and made their way back inside the castle. “It seems like everyone had good fun. Nothing like a good hunt to lighten up the mood, don't you agree?”

Merlin grit her teeth. “If you say so.”

As if just noticing her distaste for the first time, Arturia made an comically exaggerated frown. “What, didn’t you have fun?”

“Not when that tree branch knocked me off and into the mud,” Merlin grumbled. She held her arms out away from her body, reluctant to touch the mud caking her sides. Her boots were little more than mud containers (she thought she felt something wriggling by her toes and prayed it wasn’t a frog), and her jacket stank of putrid swamp water. Her shirt had frayed at the edges, and her skirt, normally durable and rugged, now bogged her down, heavy with water. 

Her only saving grace is that she had been able to catch her fall with her hands, meaning the only place that didn’t get muddy was her mouth. Her bandana, wrapped around her hair to keep it back, had also been miraculously safe. (Good, it was her favorite, the red one, and she’d hate to lose it.)

(Of course, she’d just magic the mud out later, and be none the worse for wear. But it would have been hard to explain how her mud-stained bandana looked clean as new the next morning. This was simpler.)

Arturia shook her head, raising a hand to her mouth as she fought back a peel of laughter. “You should have kept an eye out for danger, Merlin.”

“Like you didn’t purposely call my name to get me to turn around right when I was in front of the branch,” Merlin muttered.

“Who, me?” Arturia stretched their eyes wide and placed a hand on their chest. “It’s heresy to disrespect the royal family of Camelot, you know.”

Before Merlin could retort, Arturia held her hand up to silence her and dashed away. “Father!”

She caught up with him as he was ascending the stairs into the palace. Uther Pendragon fixed his stern gaze on his daughter as she rounded the steps, resting his hands on his belt loops. Arturia motioned for him to continue, and they started up the steps together.

Merlin gathered their supplies from her horse, but she glanced towards the two of them as they talked, curious about what was so important that it couldn’t wait.

“Did you enjoy the hunt, father?” Arturia’s tone was as thick as honey.

“Yes, I did, actually,” Uther replied. “Thank you for orchestrating this, Arturia, it was very clever of you.”

“Yes,” Arturia agreed. And then, “About the thing I asked earlier—”

“No, Arturia,” Uther cut her off with her hand. “I won’t hear another word about this. You can butter me up all you like with hunts and competitions in my honor, but it wouldn’t do you any good.” With a swish of his cape, he dismissed Arturia, gliding up the steps and away.

* * *

“It’s just not fair,” Arturia pouted. She ran her hand through her fingers, shaking out her hair as it tumbled down her arms, sweaty and coated in a layer of dust after spending all day in the saddle.

Merlin puffed as she struggled to keep up without dropping all of Arturia’s hunting supplies. She breathed a sigh of relief when they finally, finally, got to Arturia’s room. Except, no, actually, the hunting supplies belonged in the weapons armory, so she had lugged it all up here for nothing.

Arturia didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in her sad sob story of the day. Merlin hugged the supplies close and prayed that whatever was absorbing Arturia continued to hold her attention.

There was the customary plate of fruits and beverages left out in Arturia’s room when they arrived, and Arturia lunged forward, helping herself to the pitcher of water as if she hadn’t had anything to drink in days. She took several long gulps, driblets pouring out of the corner of her mouth.

Merlin didn’t want to be caught staring, so she busied herself putting Arturia’s supplies somewhere safe until she could get it back to the weapons room to put it away properly. When she looked up, she noticed Arturia was staring at _her_ (now who’s being rude?), as if waiting for her to say something.

Merlin shrugged. “I’m sure the king has his reasons.”

“I almost missed that deer,” Arturia continued, steamrolling over Merlin and anything she might have wanted to say, so it was good she hadn’t wanted to say anything. “The wind was blowing my hair in my face and I could hardly see a thing. I don’t think we would have gotten her at all if my father hadn’t jumped in at the last second with his own shot.”

“so it all worked out in the end.”

“He insists I keep it long for the sake of tradition. All the princesses and queens of Camelot had long hair. Maybe it’s time we changed tradition. Don’t you think?” Arturia gave Merlin a pointed look.

“Perhaps, when the time is right." _If only you knew how much tradition has already changed. You’re standing right next to the very magic your father swore to eradicate!_

Arturia slipped behind her folded changing curtain, and Merlin could hear the slight rustle of cloth on cloth that meant she was changing out of her dirt-stained clothing. “My clothes, Merlin. Let’s wear the red dress with the white trim.” Assuming the conversation was over, Merlin hurried over to Arturia’s wardrobe to find a dress appropriate for tonight’s dinner.

A sullen silence lingered in the room as Arturia changed, and she stepped out from behind the curtain. Arturia pulled her long golden hair (there was more than one stray leaf stuck in it) over one shoulder so that Merlin could better lace up the bodice of her corset. Her fingers ran over the latches seamlessly, pulling them off in a fluid motion. Her fingers brushed Arturia’s skin as she tied it up at the top, but if the princess noticed, she didn’t pay it any mind.

“It wouldn’t have been an issue at all if I had just been allowed to cut my hair,” Arturia cut through the silence. “It constantly gets in my face. It’s a nuisance.”

The bodice laced up, Merlin showed Arturia the dress she had picked out, and Merlin helped Arturia into her outfit. “Perhaps if you put it up?” Merlin asked, more to keep Arturia talking than because she cared about the answer. The longer Arturia talked, the longer she stayed in one place, the easier it was to dress her completely without chasing her down to finish.

Arturia made a face. “ _Hairstyles_ make me look like a princess.”

“You are a princess.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Arturia frowned. “I’m also a knight. I can’t go around looking like a _princess_ when I'm training with the knights. I’d never hear the end of it.”

At this point the only thing Arturia needed was her jewels. Merlin guided her to her desk; Arturia grabbed a necklace seemingly without thought, but Merlin stepped in and held up a necklace with a shining golden pendent. “If I may? This would look stunning against the red of your dress.”

Arturia glanced at Merlin’s pendant, then at the one in her hands (aquamarine, clunky, chipped), and turned around and offered her neck to Merlin without a word.

Merlin reached up to put the chain around Arturia and do the clasp. Arturia’s hair brushed against Merlin as she worked, and the stench of sweat and dirt made her gag. “As far as the knights are concerned, I don’t think whether your hair is up or down would make any difference. They’re going to make fun of you either way when they get a whiff of your musk.”

“Merlin!” Arturia’s sharp tone. She rose to her feet, causing Merlin to scramble back. “If I smell, then that’s entirely your fault. You’re the one who takes care of me. Still,” She grinned, as if an idea had just come to her. “if it’s as bad as you say, then I’m sure you’ll enjoy drawing my bath tonight.”

Merlin sputtered, but before she could complain, Arturia pivoted and strode out of the room, leaving Merlin to chase after her. 

* * *

That night Merlin drew up a bath for the princess. Like all royalty (Merlin assumed, though she’d never worked with any before the princess), Arturia insisted on bathing in her room, which was up about a million flights of stairs and on the other side of the kingdom from the kitchen, where all the hot water was.

When Arturia wasn’t looking, Merlin leaned over the quickly cooling water tub. She muttered a few words, and a surge of magic zipped along her heart to her fingers, which grasped the edge of the tub as a low steam started to pour out. She tested the temperature with a finger – perfect for bathing.

“About time,” Arturia said, and Merlin turned her back while the princess climbed into the tub. “Perhaps you're onto something, Merlin. Maybe a hot bath after a hard day of riding isn’t such a bad idea after all.”

“Is that a compliment?” Merlin asked.

She turned around, and Arturia was spread out in the tub, her broad arms tossed lazily over the side. Her long golden hair swirled around in the water, easily long enough to hide anything immodest. She tilted her head back, resting on the side of the tub, eyes closed. “Maybe.”

“Does that mean I can have a thank you? Preferably in the form of a day off?”

Arturia snorted. “You can get a day off when you convince my father to let me hack my hair off.”

Merlin bit down her rage ( _boo hoo, it must suck to be a princess and be able to indulge in whatever fun hobbies you like, while I’m stuck hiding my magic from my employers on fear of death!_ ) and held out a brush towards Arturia. “May I brush your hair, mistress?”

Arturia cracked open one eye. “If you must.” She lifted herself out of the tub just long enough to pick up her hair and flick it back over the edge of the tub, sending a spray of water cascading over the floor. As she settled back down, she added, “Careful. I’ll have you know that I had my last maidservant hanged for pulling at my hair too hard.”

“Very funny.” Merlin knelt down by the tub and gently gathered Arturia’s hair. It clumped together and, even after soaking, still stank softly of dirt and grime. Still, as it air dried, its golden hue shone through and, Merlin thought, it was nothing a little tender loving care (and a touch of magic) couldn’t fix.

Having sectioned out the hair, she ran her brush at the edges of the first clump. Merlin doubted that Arturia was being completely honest about her last servant, but it was possible that there was a sliver of truth to her statement, in which it could have been ages since someone had properly tended to her hair.

She took her time as she worked out the tangles with the brush, but they were stubborn and refused to come out, even with Merlin’s fingers gently coaxing them. She hesitated, then silently mouthed a few words. With a zap of magic, Arturia’s hair eased out, dirt and sweat easily brushing out of her now untangled hair.

“You can start at any time,” Arturia said, breaking through Merlin’s meditative flow.

“No worries; I already have.”

“Really?” Arturia sounded surprised. “I can hardly feel it.”

“I’m very gentle. Gaius says I have delicate fingers. From when he’s seen me helping tend to his patients,” she rushed to add.

“Uh huh,” Arturia said, either not noticing Merlin’s euphemism or choosing not to comment on it. “Where did you learn to be so delicate?”

“From my mother,” Merlin told him. “She taught me how to take care of myself, so I could always make myself presentable. Even for royalty.”

“You should use those skills more often,” Arturia said. “You always look like a slob when we have company over, and it reflects poorly on the kingdom.”

“So do the rat’s nests in your hair,” shot back Merlin. She jerked on Arturia’s hair, not enough to harm her but enough to make her wince. “I’ll work better if you don’t talk.” She continued to work her fingers through the thick locks, brushing against the nape of Arturia’s neck as she pulled the hair back to brush the roots. Arturia’s soft and warm skin felt hot against Merlin’s calloused fingers.

But soon she was done, and Arturia’s hair glowed softly golden in the candlelight. As helped her changed into her nightgown, Arturia pointed towards the hand mirror on her desk. “Let me see.”

Merlin held up the mirror and angled it at Arturia’s face.

Though merlin would never admit it, Arturia had always been beautiful – royalty or not, she had a certain kind of charm, a seriousness in her gaze that made people want to listen when she spoke, and a stubborn jawline that marked her as a force to reckon with. Her shoulders were wide, her arms muscular. There was nothing weak or slender about her; she was all firm, supple muscle. She was built like a knight, Merlin thought, and maybe like the future ruler of Camelot.

Her hair, on the other hand, had never been polished, or supple, or anything other than a tangled, wild mess, flying behind her shoulders and down her back as she rushed from a hunt at dawn to training with the knights to dinner with her father, day in and day out.

Until now. Her hair fell in gentle waves along her shoulders, nestled against the small of her back and brushing against her stomach. Smooth, shiny and nourished, her hair was fit for a king. Or a princess.

Arturia reached out with one hand and grasped a fistful of hair tightly, as if she couldn’t believe it was her own.

Merlin handed Arturia the mirror. “It you’ll allow it, I have a hairstyle that I think would please you.”

Arturia had no quip this time, she only nodded and moved over, making space on the bed for Merlin to sit beside her and gather Arturia’s long golden locks in her hands. Arturia never looked up from her mirror, staring with wide eyes.

Merlin’s fingers moved deftly, flowing over the hair and folding each strand in place. Arturia had a lot of hair, more than Merlin or her mother had ever had, but she managed to braid and curl it around Arturia’s head, tucking each strand in its place. With a few silently mouthed words, she rubbed her hands together and then over Arturia’s hair one last time, using a spell to hold the loose ends in place and keep it from coming undone.

Merlin glanced over Arturia’s shoulder into the mirror, almost resting her chin on the princess’s broad shoulder. She had done up Arturia’s hair tight against her skull, pulling it up and wrapping a braid around the top of her head like a crown. With all of her hair tightly up, and her sunkissed edges shining against her darker roots, at a glance it appeared as if her hair had always been short, and she wore a small crown not of hair but of gold.

Princess Arturia had always been handsome, but now for the first time you might even call her beautiful.

Arturia touched her hair, her dark eyes unreadable. “No one’s ever been able to put it up like this before,” she said at last.

“Well then, it’s a good thing I’m not no one,” Merlin said.

“It almost looks as if I have proper short hair,” she said. “Except for the crown.”

“That’s the idea.”

Arturia whipped around, so quickly that Merlin didn’t have time to pull back and their noses almost brushed. “How did you learn how to do hair so well?” she demanded.

Merlin shrugged. “Like I said, my mother taught me.”

“And yet despite your skills, you leave your own hair down, short, and hidden underneath that bandana of yours.” Arturia's gaze swept over Merlin's plain clothes and her dark hair, hidden and plain.

Merlin shrugged again. “I’m not a princess. I don’t need to dress like one.”

Arturia grunted. She rocked back, as if seeking to put a more acceptable level of space in between them. “Of course.” She handed the mirror back, forcing it into Merlin’s hair. “I will permit you to continue doing my hair like this.”

“Of course, Arturia.” Merlin nodded stiffly and stood up off the bed. She set the mirror down on the desk.

Just as she was beginning to think that maybe this whole “being the maidservant to the princess” thing wasn’t all that bad after all, something damp and smelly hit her in the back of the head.

“Oh, Merlin, don’t forget to clean these for me, will you?” Arturia asked, smirking, eyes sparkling with mischief. “They need to be mended, too. I burst a seam during my ride this morning.”

“That’s it? Not even a thank you?” Merlin quipped, bundling the sweaty pants up under her arm.

Arturia reclined back onto the bed. “Isn’t serving the princess thank you enough?”

“No,” Merlin said.

This time she was ready, and she ducked behind the bedroom door and out of the room as fast as a shadow, leaving Arturia’s shirt to thud uselessly against the wooden door.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is pushing myself a little out of my comfort zone as I don't normally write these kinds of fics, but this scene literally came to me a dream so I felt compelled to make it real. Also, I would like to say that I have never been involved in the Merlin fandom in any capacity and I only finished watching the show for the first time a few weeks ago, so please be gentle with me if I'm breaking any fanon conventions, aha. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for checking out my little fic. c:


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